


Warmth

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, NSFW, NSFW text, Oneshot, Reader Insert, Sad, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Sex, Smut, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The reader has Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and Dean finds a way to bring summer back to her</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

It was cold outside.

The temperature had been dropping steadily for weeks, and as it did, your mood fell lower and lower. As the nights drew in, and darkness seemed to perpetuate life more and more, you withdrew from the company of the boys, and went on less and less hunts. They noticed, of course, but didn't say anything at first. You didn't want to bring it their attention, almost ashamed of yourself, even though you knew you shouldn't be. You couldn't help it.

It happened every year. It was a fight to get through the winter. And having only hunted with the boys since Spring, they'd not known anything about it. Introducing yourself to someone didn't exactly involve saying “Hi, my name's Y/N, and I have Seasonal Affective Disorder”. Most people didn't even know what it was.

As the nights passed, the time you spent outside grew less and less, and the bunker became your haven from the effects of winter. There weren't any windows down here, so some days you would be able to fool yourself into padding along the warmed halls, even getting a smile on your face as you researched beside Sam, and practised in the range with Dean.

Then the snow came.

You hadn't even noticed it, being indoors with no windows. The boys had gone out on a hunt and they'd stomped back in, snow falling in wet clumps from their hair and coats, and you'd felt that cold settle in your bones. Excusing yourself, you'd gone to your room, and aside from seeking food and using the little girls room, you hadn't left. Sam had brought you in a TV, and a connection to Netflix, and you'd given in, letting him bring you meals when you could be bothered to eat. It was too hard to fight, too tiring.

About a week into this, Dean had knocked on the door. You'd looked up from your duvet cave, where you were firmly rooted, and gave him a weak smile as he slipped into the room.

'Hey, Y/N.' He said, siding closer to the bed. 'How're you feeling?'

You watched as he took a seat on the very edge of the bed, his green eyes focused on you. The weak smile resurfaced again and you reached for the remote, turning the TV off. 'I'm...dealing.' You weren't, but then you weren't about to admit it to Dean Winchester. Out of the two Winchester boys, he was the devastatingly handsome one, probably way out of your league. Sam was like a brother to you, although you could acknowledge his aesthetic attractiveness, Dean was the one who inspired butterflies in your stomach. Dean was the one who made your breath hitch in your throat when he did something on a hunt that was pretty much heroic and daring. Everything about him sucked you in. Even now, in the depths of this bottomless depression, you felt _something_ stir to life in your chest as he looked at you.

'You're also a really bad liar.' He smiled, reaching out to squeeze your leg gently through the thick duvet covering you from head to toe. You suddenly felt like a burrito, wrapped up in the duvet like this, and you slipped it down around your shoulder, cursing the messy hair it left in its wake. 'I spoke to Sam. He thinks he's knows what's wrong.' You bit your bottom lip, not looking at him. 'He said that this all started when fall hit. Closer we get to the height of winter, the worse you're getting.'

'Yeah.' You whispered. 'What else did Sam say?'

'A whole bunch of long words I didn't really get. I'm not a doctor. I'm not smart on these things like Sammy is.' Dean smiled a little. 'I'm not gonna try and pretend I understand what you're going through, cos I usually stick my foot in my mouth and make things worse.'

'Okay.' You replied, unable to look up at him.

'But.' He started again. 'I am gonna say something.' He leaned in close, his finger gently finding your chin and lifting it upwards, away from the duvet cocoon you'd built. 'Seeing you like this....' You swallowed, frozen, feeling a chill creep up your spine so delicately, despite the warmth radiating from the blankets. You waited, feeling like seconds were stretching into eternity. _You can't stay here. You're useless. You can't even hunt. You should move on. Find somewhere else._ Repeating sentences of rejection raced through your mind as you waited for Dean Winchester to become the latest in a long line of people who couldn't understand and wouldn't understand.

'Seeing you like this, makes me wanna look after you.' He smiled again, and you stared, confused. You'd always dealt with this alone, too worried to let anyone in. 'I wanna be here for you. Even if here means spending the next few months under a duvet.' He waggled his eyebrows, a dirty smirk on his lips now. 'Not that I'd have any objection to that.'

'I...I don't understand.' Your voice was quite and slightly hoarse. 'You're not...freaked out? You don't think I'm weird?'

'Who's not weird in this bunker?' Dean's chuckle was warming to you, and you took a breath. 'We hunt demons and monsters. Not exactly the definition of normal. So you have this thing that takes you down a couple months out of the year. We've all got problems.' The smirk was gone now, replaced by that reassuring smile of his and you smiled back, stronger this time. 'Whatever causes this, I know I can't stop that. But I can try and...distract you from it. Netflix is great and all, but sometimes you need someone to bring you a little positivity right?'

'I don't know.' You whispered, trying to pull away from his fingers on your chin. 'I've never had anyone stay with me. I normally...just...hide.'

Dean frowned. 'No one? Not even your family?'

'They tried when I was younger. When I was a little kid it didn't bother me much. Snow -' you shuddered. 'Excited me. When you're a kid you don't think about these things. But the older I got, the more winter just...' You sighed. 'The darkness, the cold, all of it. It seeps into my bones and just stops me functioning. I can't move some days.' You swallowed, and locked your (Y/E/C) eyes with his. 'It's scary.'

'It looks it.' He whispered, shifting a little closer. 'I think...I think I understand that feeling.' He exhaled softly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. 'Like it's hopelessness, sinking inside your chest. No way out. No hope.' You nodded, staring at him. 'Yeah, I get that.' His mouth upturned in a little smile for a second, before his hand moved to cup your cheek. 'Let me take care of you, Y/N. Until you drag yourself out of this funk.'

'Why would you want to do that?' You asked, curious and terrified at the same time. He gave you a genuine smile, before moving even closer, pressing his lips to yours gently. You were still for a moment, shocked at his action, but then the warm of his skin on yours made you close your eyes and sink into the caress of his lips. A slight moan escaped your throat, before he pulled away, looking at you, still smiling, his hand still on your cheek. You kept your eyes shut a second longer, savouring the feeling.

'I guess I hadn't made it very obvious huh?'

'What?' You questioned, a little confused, and still swooning from his kiss.

Dean chuckled. 'Clearly I didn't.' He tilted his head a little. 'I've wanted you from day one, Y/N. The minute you stood up from decapitating that vamp. Even covered in blood and gore, you were...' Another slight laugh. 'I'm no good with words. Just...you're amazing. You're beautiful. You're an awesome hunter. There's not a single thing about you that doesn't make me want you.'

'Even this.' You gestured under the duvet, realising that he couldn't see what you were doing and blushing slightly.

'Even this. This isn't a weakness, Y/N. It's part of who you are.' He waggled his eyebrows. 'And I'm not gonna object to spending a few months underneath the covers with you.'

You clicked you tongue in feigned annoyance and pushed him away. 'Dean, you're disgusting.'

He laughed. 'No, I'm honest. Look, I'm not a fan of the cold. Sammy, bless him, he loves snowball fights and all that jazz, but me? I'd rather sit in front of a warm fire and a film with a few beers. Maybe I have to adjust that for you.' He smiled, cupping your cheek again. 'You're worth it.'

'What about hunts?' You asked nervously.

'Hunts are few and far between during the winter. It's always quiet this time of year.'

'The lull before the apocalypse, right?' You joked and he nodded.

'Right. And if I have to go...' He shrugged. 'I won't stay away long. I can assure you of that.'

You swallowed again, feeling the duvet slip further down over your shoulders, revealing your simple grey flannel pyjamas. You didn't feel particularly sexy, but the second Dean's eyes were on yours, you felt naked and flushed – feelings you didn't normally associate with this disorder. Usually you'd spend the winter months not feeling anything but blackness and hopelessness. Yet here he was, willing to ride out the storm with you.

'You'll really stay?' You asked, breathlessly.

'How do I make you believe it?' He asked, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest as he came closer. 'Please. Just let me show you.'

 

*****

 

It had been thirty five days. Thirty five days into the depth of winter. You saw the weather forecast, and Sam and Dean kept you updated on the weather. You had to admit, this was the easiest winter you'd ever faced, and you only had the boys, specifically Dean to thank for it. On the days when it was the worst, Dean stayed with you, keeping you warm in bed, stealing kisses and fleeting touches, bringing you home cooked food and mug of steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream. He cuddled you, and watched hours of TV shows and films with you, including the chick flick ones, which surprised you. Not that there were many.

Between these days when it was unbearable, you managed to make it beyond your room, spending time in the library playing Scrabble with Sam (and usually losing), or researching. Dean had hooked up a bigger TV in there and pulled some armchairs out of storage. A few nights were indulged in hiding under a duvet with Dean's arms wrapped around you, Sam snoozing in a chair whilst you watched big action films and blockbusters. Sam had convinced you to watch Games Of Thrones, which Dean had immediately gotten into, although he refused to read the books.

So thirty five days later, when the heaviest snowfall of the season arrived, you were not surprised to find yourself under your duvet, listening to the news on the TV, and unwilling to leave the comfort of your room. You opened your eyes to look up at Dean, who was just stirring on the side of your bed he'd claimed as his own. His warmth seeped into your skin, and you snuggled closer to him, not wanting to leave this bed, but content with that feeling for once. Dean made it so you didn't feel quite so useless. It was a nice feeling for a change.

'Hey.' You heard him say, as he rolled over and gathered you closer to him. 'Sleep okay?'

'I did. News says there's about fifteen inches outside.'

Dean's smirk made itself known fairly quickly. 'Lucky outside. There's not that much in here.' He accompanied his filthy joke with a thrust against you, and you rolled your eyes. There had been plenty of moments between the two of you, but neither of you had physically acted on the attraction yet, beyond a few kisses and a little groping. Dean hadn't pushed you, and you hadn't wanted to rush anything with him. Feeling like you did, it wasn't a surprise to be worried that he would grow weary of your condition before long, and you were hesitant to get too attached.

But right now, pressed against the length of his body, regardless of his boxers and t-shirt or the grey flannel you were in, you felt heat pulsing through your veins. He seemed to sense this, and moved, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, his fingers coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed him back, desperate to feel him on you, your hands pushing up under his tee. He broke the kiss to pull the offending material over his head, and then returned swiftly to kissing you, his fingers working at the buttons of your pyjamas. The first touch of his hands on your bare skin made you shiver, and he stopped, frowning before pulling you and the duvet closer. You smiled, feeling warmer still at his concern. You didn't correct him, instead enjoying the continued caresses of his fingertips under the increasing warmth of the covers.

Your pyjama top was discarded, and Dean was rutting against your leg now, his hard cock straining against the thin material of his boxers. He gasped when your hand moved, sliding around his shaft, pumping him slowly. 'Fuck.' He grunted, pressing his forehead to yours, his fingers playing against your hardened nipples. 'That feels good.'

You smiled in response, kissing him again, your fingers becoming bolder with his words. He moved his lips from yours, kissing down your neck, his hand leaving your breasts to slide under the waistband of your pyjama pants, seeking out the warmth between your legs. The first touch of his index finger on your clit made you jump, and you moaned, arching into him. 'Dean.' You gasped, your concentration slipping. 'Please.'

He nodded, kissing you again, once, before pushing your pants down. You pushed them from the bed, hearing them drop to the floor softly, and his boxers quickly followed, leaving you naked against each other. Carefully, he moved, rolling you underneath him, keeping you both ensconced in the duvet covers, untouched by the cold air of the bedroom. You could feel your skin heating to a thousand degrees but you couldn't care less, as long as he didn't stop touching you.

Dean kissed the underside of your breast, rubbing the length of his cock against your soaked pussy, one of his hands pushing your legs apart gently. One finger brushed against your entrance and you moaned loudly, your head thrown back as Dean smiled against your skin, slowly pushing his finger into you, testing and stretching you. It was soon accompanied by another, the noises you made encouraging him further. He curled his fingers, pressing inside you, feeling out your sweet spot, making you pant and writhe as he gave attention to the most sensitive parts of your body. His mouth was sucking at your nipple and his fingers were pushing a rhythm inside you, whipping your nerves into a frenzy, making you cry and pant and beg for more.

'Cum for me, baby.' He whispered, and you fell, spiralling over the edge into a climax stronger than you'd expected, the explosions in your mind making your cries all the more desperate, the sweat beading on your forehead as you rode out the high he'd given you.

When your breathing evened out, he smiled, kissing you once, before grabbing his cock and positioning himself at your entrance. He looked into your eyes for a moment, before you nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sunk into you, a groan escaping his lips as he bottomed out. He held still, leaning on his elbows, his face close to yours as he allowed you to adjust. 'Are you okay?' He breathed, and you smiled, beyond touched by his continuing concern for you. He checked the duvet was still over both of you, before pulling out a little, then pushing back in slowly. You gasped, your hands moving from his shoulders to his ass, encouraging him on further.

He smiled, kissing you deeply, keeping his pace even but hard, and before long, sweat was dripping over both of your bodies. Neither of you seemed to care, your hands clutching at him desperately, kisses shared and lasting for longer every time, as he continued his slow movements. You felt the pressure in your belly start, and you clung to him as he encouraged you into a spiral that you could feel making you come undone at the seams. You clenched around him, one hand on his face as you kissed him once more, allowing the waves to wash over you and letting yourself fall into the white of oblivion. Dean wasn't long to follow you, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, his hips pistoning an uneven rhythm as he came hard inside you, holding you close to his body.

The whole of winter could have passed then, and you wouldn't have noticed. You felt him trying to keep his weight off of you, but for the life of you, you wouldn't care if he let you shoulder him for a few moments. The comforting weight of him was making you forget it was snowing outside, forgetting the cold and the darkness. Right now, under the covers with him, it was mid-Summer, it was blazing sunshine, it was beaches and happiness and long days and hunts and everything was....perfect.

'What was that?' He asked, rolling to the side, but keeping you with him. You sighed, smiling as he checked the duvet was covering all of you again. He pushed a strand of hair from your wet forehead, kissing you gently. 'You said something.'

'This is...' You looked up at him. 'Perfect.'

He smiled. 'I'm glad.' He hugged you tightly. 'I know I can't make it stop being winter, Y/N.'

'Doesn't matter.' You replied, holding him close, your cheek on his chest. 'In here, it's not winter any more.'

 


End file.
